The Paschal Moon

The Pieta by Michaelangelo

Today, for the first time since arriving back in California in early March, the sun was warm enough for me to have my coffee and pray with the bees. I’ve written about the importance of speaking with the bees in my life, and I’ve missed my time with them. Granted, I did have on three sweaters, but there was no chill in the air. Instead, I could feel a warmth radiating up from the ground, an energy pulsing from deep within the earth that seemed to whisper, “I’m waking up.” The bees were active, as were the birds. I could smell the bark of the trees, the blades of grass, and the fresh dirt. Yet, I was expecting this, for today is the first full moon after the spring equinox. A cosmic event that always signals the rebirth of the world.

The first full moon after the spring equinox is called the Pink Moon, and it ushers in a phase of extreme growth in nature. For the past twelve years, I’ve had the pleasure of living with the bees, and it never fails—the hive will become very active as soon as this moon rises and within a month, swarming will become the norm. I’ve been curious about this for a while and kept records for the longest time. While those records burned in the fires, I still have my experiences. In the beginning of my beekeeping adventures, I thought that swarms were always happening just before Mother’s Day, but then I noticed sometimes they began late April. Being raised Catholic, I’ve long celebrated Easter and after my third spring living with the bees, I realized that no matter when Easter occurred, the swarms began a few weeks after. But Easter isn’t the same day each year, so why would the bees follow it? The date of Easter is determined by the first full moon after the equinox, which is why this full moon is also called the Paschal or Ecclesiastical Moon. The timing here varies, the spring equinox is always March 20 but the first full moon after it can appear as soon as March 21 and as late as April 16. Thus, sometimes I’d get swarms mid-April, other years mid-May. It starts with increased activity around the Paschal Moon, then they increase in number, lastly, a few weeks later, they swarm. I’ll see tornadoes of bees swirling around the neighborhood for a few days, and then it’s all over.

This same thing would happen with my goats’ fur. I had the pleasure of living seven years with two Pygora goats, Barttimus and Abigail. These particular goats grew fur similar to sheep’s wool, and every spring we’d shear them and I’d send the fiber on to a fiber mill for cleaning and then spin it into yarn. It was a lovely hobby, and they were the best pets. Some Pygora goat owners also shear in October, but we were a small operation of two and only sheared in the spring. At first, I was a bit haphazard about my timing. If it seemed warm enough, I’d shear them. Yet, this did not produce the highest quality of fiber. Often, I’d find their coats too long and matted. As a result, the fiber literally felted on their bodies and was fairly useless to me. After a few failed years I began to notice that they too followed the Paschal Moon. If I didn’t shear them before Easter, I was going to have felted fur. More specifically, I noticed their hair grew inches those few days around the first full moon after the spring equinox. Thus, I began a habit of shearing them on Good Saturday, the day before Easter, because if I waited until the next weekend, it was over. Getting it off Easter weekend always produced the best fiber.

There are many other instances of extreme growth happening around this particular full moon. Upon reflection, it makes sense now that Easter would be celebrated around this time, for there truly is a resurrection going on within nature. It’s like the Pink Moon awakens Mother Earth deep within her core. Everything warms up—the queen bee begins to lay her brood and the fur on goats and sheep starts to grow. Eggs are hatched, rabbits are born. Can you see where the imagery of the season comes from? They say that Easter is a version of the more ancient festival of Ostara, and I can see why. However, Easter lands where it does because Christians believe that Jesus celebrated Passover the day before he died. Passover always begins first Full Moon following the vernal equinox. Thus, Easter had to be the first Sunday after the first Full Moon following the vernal equinox (though technically, the two holidays don’t always fall together due to calendar issues. About 15% of the time, they’re a month apart). Still, given the power of this full moon, I can see why the ancient Jews chose this particular month to celebrate fleeing slavery and finding triumph.

They say curiosity killed the cat, but cat’s also have nine lives. I myself have found curiosity, awe, and wonder to be the greatest partners in aging and health. They’re also trusty companions when it comes to suffering. It’s been a long winter here in California. The damage to our property is significant. Downed trees, destroyed gazebo, broken fences, leaking tiny homes. This is on top of all the work we’re still doing since the fire. However, I woke this morning, curious to see if my theory still held. Would today be different, given the Paschal Moon? The moment I went outside for my morning jog, everything had changed. The energy of resurrection filled air. The sun was warmer, the grass a little taller. My lungs didn’t hurt as I jogged. Best of all was coffee with the bees. I loved sitting by their front porch, delighting as they buzzed by. It’s the most active I’ve seen them in months, and I took notes to see how many there are. If my theory is correct, that hive will be bursting by the end of next week and swarming should begin around the next new moon.

This resurrection energy gives me strength. I trust that winter is almost over and that a new year will begin. Easter, Christianity’s most joyous holiday, is celebrated at the most joyous time of the year. However, for Christians, there is a time of great sorrow that one must enter before the resurrection can happen. It’s called the Passion of Christ, the crucifixion. Good Friday has never been a favorite of mine and for most of my life, I tried to avoid it like I avoid the book of Job. If God is so good, then why would his son have to suffer? Many Christians worship the crucifixion, as if their suffering savior is all they need. The blood Jesus shed is what gives them strength. This image of Christ never resonated with me. When I was younger, I wanted to skip that part and go straight to the resurrection and the light. The warmth on my face, the pretty Easter dresses, the egg hunts at grandmas at which I swear my cousin David always cheated. The idea of the cross scared me.

I will admit, it still bothers me, but as I’ve grown older, I’m starting to accept that before the spring, there is the winter. The bees huddle in the cold, surrounding their queen as their numbers die out. The goats shiver in the barn, their coats necessary for survival. The rain falls like buckets from the sky. The winds knock down trees and take out power. The snow covers the homes and roads. All of this hurts and all of it is a matter of life and death.

Since 2018, my own life has seen its share of challenging events. A friend committed suicide, I shattered my hip socket, the world locked down, my house burned, and now my mother is suffering from a brain disease. In each event, I’ve had the choice to fall into darkness or be curious and learn. I don’t want to say it’s been easy; I often look over my shoulder when I say this, as if God is standing there, and remind him I have no desire to become the next Job, yet to say it’s been terrible would be a lie. Under each painful experience has been a resurrection of life, not a lesson, but I truly become something new. I don’t even recognize my face at times. People will ask me how I do it and I honestly believe suffering is what you make of it and the greatest antidote to the dark night of the soul is curiosity. I wonder, I wonder…

For me, the most meaningful symbol for this time of year is the Pieta. Mary holding her broken son. She is the creatrix, the powerful mother, who stood at the foot of the cross and watched the world taunt and murder her son. It’s said that she never left his side. The Pieta is the moment when his dead body is laid in her arms, and she holds him. I can’t imagine that pain, it is one no parent should have to feel, yet everyday parents suffer this exact horror. I don’t think there’s any curiosity that could remedy such an event. This image of a mother holding her son is one that moves me to tears. More than any crucifix or even the risen Lord, the Pieta touches that part of me that needs to hope. She is the Lady of All Peoples, Natura, the earth herself, holding her broken child. I wonder if she knew that the resurrection was right around the corner. That in only three days, she would be released from her own dark night, awakened by the Paschal moon, and called forth to his side?

Would that make it any easier had she known? Does the earth know that winter will pass? I think so. I mean, we know this to be true. Yet the winter still sucks and this winter in particular feels like it will never let go. Yet it must pass. Something new is being born. Hope springs eternal. The Paschal Moon rises, as does the Son.

As do we.